Headlights on the Highway
by lilabut
Summary: A collection of Jacob & Bella drabbles.
1. Together

I wrote this for the SOB Drabbel Contest.

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**Together**

They have good days and bad days. Easy days and laboured days. Cheerful days and mournful days.

Some days Bella would wake up to see Jacob deep asleep beside her, his features peaceful, his black lashes casting shadows underneath his eyes in the dim sunlight.

Those days she would run her fingertip across the smooth skin of his cheek, brush it gently, feather-like, across his soft lips – taking in his beauty, his innocence which only ever lived while he was asleep.

She would wake him, whisper in his ear, blowing air across his nose, marvelling at his reaction - the way his nose would crinkle and his forehead would crease.

But some days Bella would wake up to the sound of Jacob's soft snoring and her heartbeat would race already in the early hours of another day.

She would groan and try to muffle the disturbing sound with her pillow before turning around and punching her elbow into Jacob's ribcage – the impact hurting her more than him. Eventually he would wake up to find her glaring at him with fury in her sleepy eyes and he would apologize, press his lips to her forehead and she would push him away, crawl out of bed and stomp out of the room.

Some days they would feed each other during dinner, forks and spoons reached across the table, their feet playing, cuddling, intertwining underneath the surface, chocolate pudding smeared across Bella's cheek and Jacob would bend across the small distance and kiss it away, his lips ending up on hers and Bella would taste the sweet combination of chocolate and _Jacob_, her hands abandoning her cutlery, burying in Jacobs's hair instead.

But another day Jacob would come home from work, _I'm home_ echoing through the house, following the smell of food to find Bella busy in the kitchen.

With an exhausted smile he would cross the room, kiss Bella softly on the lips before eying the stove, a _not-again_-expression etching onto his face and Bella would see it before his _sunshine_-smile could cover it up and she would be mad at him, yell at him for not appreciating the food she made, ordering him to cook himself next time.

Mad at himself and mad at Bella Jacob would be silent, trying to ignore the way Bella's hands were firmly pressed against her hip, a strand of her hair loosening from her ponytail and he would finish dinner wordless, serving and eating – waiting until the fury in Bella had subsided.

They have days when a simple kiss can ignite fire and passion in them, when holding hands can be the most intimate and close act, when no words are necessary, when life is beautiful.

And they have days when their kisses feel like duty, like a responsibility, something they owe each other, when each word is misconceived and leads into a fight.

But at the end of each day there is always something that makes it a _good_ day – they lived it _together_.


	2. Even if you cannot hear my voice

This was also written for the SOB Drabble contest.

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**Even If You Can Not Hear My Voice**

„I chose you… I chose you… I chose _you_…"

Her voice was muted, a hushed whisper, just a mere outtake of breath that happened to sound like words, like an actual phrase… like _the world_. Like everything that was and would ever be important. Meant something…

"I chose you… I chose you…"

A mantra, a poem… a _drama_. The most beautiful words in the world – yet they held a bittersweet charm around them, an aftertaste that lingered longer than the _moment_.

Like in a trance the words slipped past Bella's lips, her eyes fixed on the sleeping, peaceful features of Jacob next to her and she was mesmerized by how easy the words flew, how _right_ it felt to say them. How natural and comforting it felt to brush her fingertip across Jacob's bare upper arm, drawing circles and lines there on his smooth and warm skin.

"I chose you… I chose you… I chose you…"

_So easy_… and Bella was sure she had the courage to speak them out loud, actually _saying_ them. To his face. Awake. For _real_.

_Meaning_ them… was the other side. Was the little needle that kept pricking her heart each time she tried to break free – tried to speak the truth.

This was a try, a craven attempt to ease her heart from all it´s burdens. All the pain.

With each rise and fall of Jacob's chest she drew another circle, left another invisible mark on him, whispered the words he so desperately wanted to her – she so desperately wanted to say and _mean_ – and hoped that his unconsciousness would catch them somehow, turn them into a dream. A happy dream.

"I chose _you_…"

When Jacob woke up later that afternoon, telling Bella that staring at _innocent, sleeping, underage people_ was rude and a sign of bad behaviour – a boyish and pleased smirk on his face – Bella fell back into routine, into her usual self. Into the person who knew what she wanted but could not bring herself to _have_ it.

"Well, you are the personification of good behaviour, Jake," slipped through her lips… so _easily_… so _naturally_.

And Bella wished that she could just say _it – _everything,_ the world -_ as she watched Jacob stretch on the couch and concentrate back onto the long-forgotten horror movie on television.

I chose you…


	3. Secrets in the Woods

And another one which I wrote for the SOB Drabble Contest.

**I wish all of you a very happy, amazing and succesful year 2010!**

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**Secrets In The Woods**

"This is so _wrong_…"

They sigh in unison, their breathing laboured – even hers and she does not even _need_ to breathe anymore – and they stare at the cloudless sky, pitch black, stars crystal-clear while their minds seem to have sucked in all the mist.

"_Yeah_…," Jacob sighs, his fingertip trailing across the ice-cold, marble skin of Bella's bare stomach, the feeling enough for a shiver to run down his spine and yet… he could not care less.

"_So_ wrong…"

He has no time to answer her because within the next splint of a second – she is so _fast_ – her lips are on his, stone on liquid fire, and he feels nothing but her, knows nothing but her, _wants_ nothing but her.

They both regret what they are doing, they know it is wrong, that they should not be doing it. But life, or _non-life_, came between them, crossed their paths at the worst thinkable time and what is happening in this very moment are the inevitable consequences of that intrusion.

It happens over and over – they can not detain it. And every time they both die a little inside – even her and she is _already _dead.

Bella burns to death underneath his touch, under the weight of her guilt, the regret and remorse. The constant _what if_´s and _had I only_´s and _maybe_´s.

Jacob freezes to death because she is so _cold_, so solid. So _unreal_ and he keeps thinking that maybe he could have done something to stop this. At some point. Long ago.

When they are silent again, when the guilt comes crushing down each time again they swear to themselves that this was _the last time_.

But deep down they know that as long as the damned _forever_ dictates their lives, their _existences_, they will keep going, they will be cursed to make this same mistake _over and over and over_. After all it is the only way for them to savour what little they ever had – _together_.

They both desperately hope that _forever_ has to end at some point, so they can finally find peace.

Until then… they just have to keep going. Keep dying. Keep _trying_.


	4. A Drop in the Ocean

This one was inspired by the song _A Drop in the Ocean_ by Ron Pope.

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**A drop in the ocean**

Maybe it had been foolish. No – strike the _maybe_. It most definitely had been foolish to hold onto a stupid, forfeited and hopeless dream.

She would never have been his. Not in a thousand years and he should have known. Should have known from the moment she stepped out of her truck with those motorcycles that she was a lost cause. Another casualty. Collateral damage in the endless vicious circle of dreams and life.

He had been holding onto something too heavy, pulling him down and yet it was too beautiful and auspicious to let go off.

And now it was all over. Both of them. Who they were. Who they might have been one day.

Silent and immobile Jacob sat on a rainy beach somewhere in South America, thousands of miles away from her and yet he could feel her dying. Somehow he knew that she was becoming one of them in these seconds, painful minutes, agonizing hours. He knew because he was still holding on, still falling and he could see the ground below now, sharp, razor-edged and lethal.

He was sure he would not survive the fall. And neither would she.

Anger boiled in his veins. Was he not _supposed_ to dream? Was this not the way life should be? Live every day to the fullest because it could easily be your last but dream as if you had forever to make them happen?

So young. If _he_ would not dream then _who_ would?

So why did his dream betray him this way? That now he sat there motionless in no-man's-land feeling the love of his life pass, becoming his deadly enemy.

Once again he hoped she would just die. Maybe he was misinterpreting. Perhaps the feeling of losing her, of loosing himself just meant that she was dying. _Naturally_. An accident. Maybe.

It was yet another hopeless dream and in that moment Jacob Black swore to never dream again, to never believe into things that would deceive him later.

He had always been a dreamer inside his heart, warm and full of light and hope.

She took his dreams away that day, all the light and hope he had for the good side of things.

Even though his _Bells_ died and left behind a cold, marble, shallow mask of beauty, Jacob did not die. She buffered his fall, kept him alive. She died so he could survive.

She did not kill him. But she killed the dreams in him, leaving him just as shallow as she was now. Cold. _Lifeless_.


	5. And then you

This one was inspired by the song _And then You_ by Greg Laswell.

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**And then you**

„You don´t understand it, do you?"

"Jacob… I-"

"You don´t want to understand. I – don't – care! I don´t care if you're broken and shattered. I don´t care if you wish I was _him_. I don´t care if you will never forget him or never see that he won't come back. I – don´t – care! As long as you are with me…," Jacob's angry and furious voice fades into silence as he ends his little speech – words that had boiled inside of him for too long and needed to be set free.

He could not handle the pressure a second longer.

Bella just stood there looking at him, her eyes sparkling with tears in the dim light of the garage and she trembled, her fingers clenching together nervously.

"Bells..," Jacob whispered, feeling guilty and ashamed that he threw these words at her like this. But they had to be said sooner or later and as he took a step forward and pressed his hand against Bella's cheek her eyes looked up to him and he could see it.

Determination.

And _peace_.

Her troubled mind finally seemed to have found an answer. All her dreams and thoughts, all the days spent in doubt and pain and endless questions – _today_ she found her ground. Her peace.

"I am with you. Already. All the time."


	6. Chocolate

This one was inspired by the song Chocolate by Snow Patrol.

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**Chocolate**

„Are you mad?!"

Jacob is almost shrieking as he watches Bella with a featherbrained expression, his hands fumbling through the air helplessly as if he tries to hold onto his (or her) sanity.

"Maybe I am," Bella calls over her shoulder, a bid grin flashing across her pale face and it causes a diremption in Jacob's mind. He would give _everything_ to see that shine in her eyes every day. But not like _this_…

"Bells, come on. We can do something different. What about the bikes? We didn't take a ride forever. Or cliff diving. I promised you that. How about we do it now?"

"Nice try, Jake!"

Bella just winks and Jacob realizes there is nothing he can do to stop her. Except just grabbing her and drag her back upstairs.

"Just in case you get caught: _I'm_ innocent."

"As innocent as a lamb, Jake!"

He shakes his head and watches Bella with a hint of curiosity that makes him angry at himself. This was _wrong_ and would most likely end in a disaster.

"There we go!" Bella calls with enthusiasm and full of pride and a second later Jacob hears the sound of glass bottles bumping against each other.

When Bella reappears from her crouched position against Charlie's camping freezer she carries another flashlight-smile and two bottles of what appears to be vodka.

"_Now_…we'll find a nice sun-trap and enjoy the day," she declares with pride and excitement and the next second she is up the basement stairs and all Jacob can think about is how to explain all this to Charlie later…


	7. Fake Plastic Trees

This one was inspired by the song _Fake Plastic Trees_ by Radiohead.

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**Fake Plastic Trees**

She is sick.

He is angry.

Angry about how with all the modern medicine and technology and science they just c_annot know_ what she has. What is wrong with her. What makes her so weak.

Most of the time she sleeps, her eyes closed, her breathing even and Jacob just sits next to her bed, staring at her pale skin, so sallow and lifeless now, and he holds her hand, brushes her skin with his fingertips and hopes to beam some life back into her.

He brings flowers. _Every_ day.

The white and sterility of the hospital room drains even more life out of her and he wonders why they keep the rooms like that.

So he brings her flowers, all kinds and all colours to brighten up her pain-wrinkled face and tickle a smile out of her.

"They're so beautiful," Bella whispers one day as he sets a bouquet of red gerbera on her bedside table and smiles at her – the way he always does, always did. Always will.

"Thank you.."

Her voice is so quiet that Jacob fears it might just fade into silence if he stops listening. Stops taking care.

_Not that he ever would._

"No big deal, Bells."

She looks at him intently and he knows that she did not thank him for the flowers but for _him_self.

That he took care. And never left her side.

To him it is self-evident. There is no way he would _not_ take care. He is her _best friend_… as much as it wears him out that he wants to be so much more. He _loves_ her… knowing that she loves him, as well but not the way he wants her to love him. He wants to be there for her any way she wants… even though he knows he would never be what she _truly_ desires.

And a cruel, masochistic part of him is with her every day because it fears that whatever it is she has is killing her. And he does not want her to die alone. Without him there to once again tell her how much he loves her.

"I love you," he says quickly, fear pinching his heart and she smiles softly, almost pitiful.

He does not know whom she pities, anymore.

"I know."


	8. First In Line

This was inspired by the song _First in Line_ by matthew Mayfield.

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**First in line**

Bella's fingertips are hesitant as she trails them across Jacob's chest, feels his smooth yet stone-solid skin underneath her touch and marvels at the soft shiver she causes, the small sign of weakness from her _too-big_ and _too-massive_ best friend.

Feeling bolt she pressed her palm above his heart, closes her eyes and concentrates on the steady _thump thump thump_ underneath her hand, inhaling Jacob's woodsy, musky scent.

She feels _home_ and this feels _right_ and for a second Bella starts to ask herself why she declined herself of this for so long.

Finally Bella has to admit that she needs this. His touch. Her touch. The soft vibration that tingles her skin as Jacob releases a long-held sigh, his hands on her lower back, pulling her closer, his muscles twitching underneath her touch as she moves her hand lower and lower, her fingertips dipping beneath the waistband of his shorts.

He does not stop her and Bella realizes that this is what she needs as much as air and endorphins and food and sunlight and sleep. _Him_. All of him. Without any boundaries. Just him.

"_Bells_," he whispers out of breath and out of mind as she pulls down the zipper of his cut-off jeans and then just stops all movement, raising her head to look into his onyx eyes, her chin pressing against his heaving chest.

She just smiles and it´s all the reassurance he needs to lower his head towards her and brush his lips against hers.

_Just them_.


	9. Clemency

Written for a drabble contest over at _Sort of Beautiful_.

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**Clemency**

Jacob likes to remember the _old days_. The times when vampires and werewolves were just legends– the cause of dull pain but not real, not present.

He likes to remember motorcycles on muddy paths, the ocean's rush in their ears, self-made garages, warm soda, comfortable silence only filled with the metallic _cling_ of tools, the smell of grease and oil, spaghetti dinners and bonfires on a cold, wet beach.

Long, brown hair, chocolate-coloured eyes, pale skin, flushed with a faint tint of cherry.

Careless conversations, care_ful_.

_Care_.

That is what Jacob likes to remember. Times in which the world was a little closer to it´s right path, closer to the truth.

Whenever he looks into the eyes of his children he can see that truth, the good in life. Hope. And he knows that sometimes the world does take the right path – just not always at a time you want it to happen.

He keeps a picture of her in the album full of pictures of Quil and Embry and other guys from school he never hears of now. She is a part of that time, of those easy and youthful days.

That is where he keeps her. The place she holds in his heart.

His wife once thumbs through the thick album and Jacob sees her eyebrow crease when she reaches that page.

"Who is she?"

Pretending to not know whom she is talking about Jacob leans towards her and stares at the picture.

_Bells_… her head turned slightly away from the camera in an attempt to escape Quil´s merciless assault with the camera he bought the day before, her hair a mess across her shoulders and her hands folded uncomfortably in her lap.

"She's an old friend," he simply says, leaning back into the couch and stares right through the television screen.

"What's her name?"

"Bella."

Pictures run through Jacob's mind like an old movie, the memories scratchy and used. Her so rarely seen smile, the sound of her voice, the look of pain in her eyes, the touch of her cool skin, the feeling of her heartbeat against his chest in one of his bear hugs.

"You never spoke of her before. What is she doing?"

He hesitates for a second, images of their last conversation burning in his head. The moment she let go of his hand, whispered _love you_ to him and disappeared through the door of his childhood room, out of his life.

"She died."

"Oh… I´m sorry. How did that happen?"

"Guess she was stuck with the wrong guy," he says, getting up from the couch and steps into the kitchen without a look back and as he stands at the sink he smiles to himself.

He knows he will see her again. His _Bells_. One day. Her soul.

But until that day his heart would belong to the woman he just left in the living room and the two children sleeping peacefully upstairs.

Not to memories of a girl he once loved.


	10. Hindsight of a Labored Heart

Written for a drabbel challenge at _Sort of Beautiful_.

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**h i n d s i g h t. o f. a. l a b o r e d. h e a r t.**

The moment Bella realizes how dependent she is, how insignificant her name and how invisible her external she decides to unwind her crude and selfish choice.

Edward is hunting, Alice in Mexico and Bella in a rush to gather her belongings – shocked by how few things in the sterile and frigid apartment belong to her.

She knows that Alice must have seen her future disappear and told Edward but then Bella's knowledge fades.

Would he come and try to stop her? Or would he let her go?

Throwing the bag into her car without a look backwards Bella jumps behind the steering wheel, her heart pounding in her chest; full of excitement and a long-forgotten passion for life. Anticipation and nervousness.

But never a splint of doubt.

She drives through the night and the next day, crossing the country as far as she can, all the while seeing only the horizon and the road ahead of her, never considering a glance into the rear-view mirror.

One night in a sleazy motel in Nebraska she hears the words _he_ had said when they said goodbye six months ago echoing in the darkness of her room.

"_Sometimes you need to see when you loose and stop fighting. You need to let things go when they go down – or you will go down with them._"

Bella does not sleep that night, the cold and dure expression on Jacob's face burning in her memory and she fears nightmares and loneliness.

"_I want to go down with you Bella. I never want to let you go. But you fight so hard to kick me off. You don´t want me to save you. If this is your wish – then I'll let you fall alone_."

As she passes the welcoming sign to Forks Bella remembers what Edward had said the first night in New Hampshire, his cold arms cautiously draped over her waist.

"_It´s remarkable. How I want you to stay right here in my arms and how I wish you would be in someone else's arms. Warm arms. Without a blanket in between to keep you from freezing_."

That night she had been angry about his confession but now she understands. And it keeps the guilt away from her anxious mind.

This is was he wanted, after all.

When she stops her car in front of the red house her heart swells like a water balloon close to bursting and spreading the droplets all over the soft, green grass.

He steps onto the porch, wiping his hands with a greasy cloth. He sees her standing there with her bag in her hand, looking at him with the shy smile of a girl who lost the right path for a while and now returns home, and storms down towards her.

"You never let me go," she whispers and then feels what she should have felt all along: warm arms wrapped around her, breath tickling her neck and she finally understands the meaning of _coming home_.


	11. There'll be no more Tears in Heaven

Obviously inspired by the song Tears in heaven by Eric Clapton and written for a drabble contest at Sort of Beautiful.

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**t h e r e ' l l. b e. n o. m o r e. t e a r s. i n. h e a v e n.**

Twice in his life Jacob tore apart a Christmas tree, shredded the branches and ripped the flimsy tinsel.

Out of anger, guilt, frustration – grief.

The first time was the year after his mother died and he was mad, furious and _young_. Within an hour his tiny hands destroyed the work Billy had invested an entire night in; the Christmas tree not as _beautiful_ as it had once been, the golden balls and everything not right – _all wrong_.

The second time was the year Bella died.

It was the day she had kissed him softly, murmured _see you later_ into his ear and jumped into her truck, heading for the grocery store to get the mushrooms Jacob liked so much – because it was _Christmas_ and because she knew that it would make him happy even if he tried to talk her out of it.

It was snowing – finally a white Christmas – and the roads were covered under a thick, white blanket, freezing temperatures tinting his children's cheeks raspberry red as Jacob took them for a little walk in the snow, enjoying the calmness and the peace of winter.

Jacob knew what was wrong when they returned home and Sam was waiting in front of the door, a dead look on his face.

Emily took the children inside, promising a warm punch and cookies – Jacob rushed into hospital, almost crashing his own car into a tree on his way. His heart was torn between racing like the speed of sound or just giving up entirely, surrendering to the pain that seeped into his every cell, tearing him apart.

They told him there was nothing they could do except waiting for her body to surrender, releasing her from the deep sleep she was in.

He bargained, begged and pleaded but there was no chance for his _Bells_ to wake up.

She looked so peaceful, her pale face for once free from all the struggle and pain.

And yet tears fell from Jacob's eyes onto her folded hands, intertwined with his, as he realized she was _not_ sleeping and would _never_ wake him again in the middle of the night, snuggling up closer, kissing him gently. _Never_.

So he tore it apart, the _oh, so peaceful_ Christmas tree. And this time he felt regret as he saw the fear and sadness in his children's eyes. They cried because they had no Christmas tree and Jacob cried because he did not understand. Anything.

He sneaked out that night, got the biggest tree he found and spend the entire night decorating it.

It was crouched and overloaded – but when they saw it their faces lit up into a bright smile and Jacob understood that what had happened had it´s good sides.

Bella was _free_. Free of all the trouble and agony she had suffered.

Her heart stopped beating four days later and when Jacob brushed his lips against hers one last time he whispered into her ear, hoping she could still hear him.

_See you later_


	12. Ironic

lyrics from the song _Ironic_ by Alanis Morissette

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Ironic

_he won the lottery and died the next day / it's like rain on your wedding day / life has a funny way of sneaking up on you_

Fingers flutter over the heavy fabric enveloping her like a sophisticated glove. The beautiful woman's reflection in the mirror casts her a hesitant gaze, everything about her misplaced and _wrong_.

A familiar melody echoes from the radio – a song she heard a million times.

She hums, soft vibrations tickling her glossy lips.

News flash. Overly excited voices. A sad report of an old man winning the lottery - dying the day after from a heart attack.

Before the next song, the back of her hand is covered with sticky gloss, lips bare, feet carrying her away from the mellow sound.


	13. Wonderwall

This was inspired by the song _Wonderwall_ by Oasis

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W o n d e r w a l l

I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now / all the roads we have to walk along are winding / there are many things that I would like to say to you but I don't know how

Bella fans her hand in front of her face, desperate for a tepid elementary particle of a gust.

"God, this song is annoying," she grumbles, feet on the dashboard.

"Come on, Bells. Stop complaining. The seat is too hard, you sweat, you're hungry and now the music sucks. Do you want me to stop and walk alone?"

He is terribly annoyed. He wanted this to be _their_ trip. His chance. And now she's being whiny.

"Sorry," Bella mumbles and she ignores the extra heat when she places her hand on Jacob's thigh, cherishing the soft shiver that runs through him.


	14. You and Me

This was inspired by the song _You and Me_ by Lifehouse

* * *

Y o u. a n d. M e.

cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do / and I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you / everything she does is beautiful

Flames cast grotesque shadows on the sand beneath their feet, voices echoing across the beach, mingling with the shore's steady rush.

Bella and Jacob sit apart from each other on driftwood logs, surrounded by people they know and people they know less well.

They are deaf and blind for anything but each other.

She notices how his skin glimmers against the fire, how the corners of his mouth twitch nervously from time to time.

He notices what he already knows. How beautiful she is, everything he can make out in the darkness and everything he knows is there, anyways. Hidden.


	15. I Cried For You

This was inspired by the song _I Cried for You_ by Katie Melua

* * *

I. C r i e d. F o r. Y o u.

they never understand why I cried for you / I learned from you that beauty need only be a whisper / without you now I see how fragile the world can be

"_You're beautiful, Bells_."

The broken whisper echoes in her memory over and over again and the silent tear that runs down her cheek is caught by the tip of her finger before it can fall into the abyss.

She remembers when she last heard the whisper – the day he stepped out of her life with the indifference of a mayfly.

All she feels now is fragility. Like everything is made of filigree glass. Or porcelain.

No one understands her mourning. She is a stranger to them all.

But she knows that, as long as _she_ understands, her choice was _right_.


	16. Penny Lane

This was inspired by the song _Penny Lane_ by the Beatles.

* * *

P e n n y. L a n e.

there beneath the blue suburban skies / in his pocket is a portrait of the Queen

"´_French Kiss_`? No way!"

"I knew you'd laugh at me," Bella pouts, crossing her arms in front of her plaid-covered chest.

Jacob giggles – actually _giggles_ - in second-hand embarrassment.

"Tell me your secret!" Bella demands, glaring at Jacob, angry that she let him convince her to share their "sappy secrets".

Jacob pulls his wallet out and opens it – nervously starting to nibble at the tip of his tongue.

Bella is faced with a picture of herself inside the wallet and before Jacob can react, she has her arms around his neck and ´_French Kiss_` suddenly isn't just another sappy movie.


	17. Fireflies

This was inspired by the song _Fireflies_ by Ron Pope.

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F i r e f l i e s

Sometimes he understands. Or at least: he starts to accept that apparently this was the way his life had chosen to be. Without asking him, of course. But this seemed it…a broken, lonely, desperate teenage boy trapped in the form of a wild animal.

_Instincts. _

_Savagery._

What they had had been beautiful. Outstanding and _right_.

He tells himself that over and over – praying that this old, craven trick of men kind would work: lying to oneself, telling your mind something just long enough for it to believe it is actually true.

It never would. But it helps Jacob understand.

Something as beautiful and effortless as they had could not last. _Life_.

Every heart stops beating, every lung stops taking breaths, every eyelid falls close, every voice fades into silence, every light flashes and then dims out…

_Jake and Bells_ eventually feel victim to that everlasting circle of life.

And sometimes Jacob thinks it might be better that way. Natural.

_Right_.


	18. No More Reasons To Smile

I was given the following prompt:

_She's got a smile that it seems to me  
Reminds me of childhood memories  
Where everything  
Was as fresh as the bright blue sky  
Now and then when I see her face  
She takes me away to that special place  
And if I'd stare too long  
I'd probably break down and cry_

_

* * *

_N o. m o r e. R e a s o n s. t o. S m i l e.

It is something he has been doing for many years now. He does not remember when his brain had started to disconnect from his heart and motions – but then again, when had he ever acted sane around _her_?

She just sits there, eyes as golden as the ring he bought a while back (not for her, as much as his traitorous heart desired that, but for her daughter out of everyone it could have been) in a rare stream of heightened, positive emotions. A frenzy, he likes to believe.

She sits there with her golden eyes and her alabaster skin, as white as the leather couch beneath her, and she smiles at something someone must have said. Smiles as if everything was the same, as if there was an actual reason to smile.

Jacob had lost any reasons to smile long ago. But when she does, he feels something flicker inside of him. His past. His old self. Within her smile he can see the clumsy girl no one would believe she once was, the warm and soft touch of her skin, childhood memories of mud pies and hide-and-seek games by the beach.

Funny, how happy memories can turn into means of torture over the years. For a second they brighten Jacob's mind, take him to a long lost place of peace before painfully reminding him that that place now only exists in those occasional daydreams and his memory.

He stops looking quickly, afraid that his imagination might devour him if he dared too sink in too deep.

And she finds more reasons to smile.


	19. Times are Changing

I was given the following prompt: _So we pile our lies in to ease the hurt away._

_

* * *

_T i m e s. a r e. c h a n g i n g.

Jacob watches Bella as she cooks her way through his kitchen, every bowl used, ingredients smeared and scattered everywhere. An enormous pile of pancakes stands next to a bowl of vanilla pudding, a plate with chocolate cookies on top of a box with sandwiches of all kinds, a steaming pot with pasta next to a plate with steaks, a cake with crumbles on the table amongst an overflowing salad bowl, lasagne and mashed potatoes.

He had tried to talk to her for three hours now – obviously without any success. She just glared at him and continued her work, ordering him to get out of her way while she stirred, roasted, flavoured, kneaded and wiped sweat and baking powder from her forehead.

Finally, he has enough. Taking two big steps, he wraps his strong arms around her waist, ignoring her kicks and punches and the chocolate smears on his arms. Lifting her from the ground he carries her into the bathroom, pushes her into the shower with a little brutality and before she can scream in protest the ice-cold water is pouring down on her.

She goes rigid in his arms, the flood of ice soaking her clothes, gluing her hair to her face, eyes closed, limbs shivering.

"Stop lying, Bells. It's too late and you know that. No matter how many cookies you make it won't change your choice anymore," he says as gently as he can, wrapping his arms around her once again and stepping into the tiny shower with her. Their bodies are pressed together tightly, not a single inch left for air and Bella rests her head against his chest in defeat, fisting her hands in his shorts – the only fabric she can use as a hold.

"You're getting married in two days and then you'll be gone. I know we've been trying to lie that away the last months, but it's too late for that now. It's time to let go. We can't pretend being married and having kids anymore, naming them Jake the Third and bubble gum. And you can't walk around with the sheet playing my runaway bride. And you can't stay the night sneaking into my bed just to wake up next to me in the morning as if it was the most normal thing in the world. And you can't cook like there is a war coming up."

Bella's tears mix with the freezing water, her lips turning blue against his russet chest as he keeps her close, whispering into her ear.

"It helped. All those pretends. But not anymore. It only hurts now. You can still make it all happen. But you and I both know it won't happen," he sighs, holding back the tears and buries his head In her hair. Imagining – pretending – for the last time that they were just two teenagers in a downpour. Not a lonely boy and a girl who would leave him for someone as cold as the icy water soon. Very soon.

The lies had been soothing. At the time. But the time was over.


	20. Sunburn

I was given the following quote as a prompt:

_"Most of the shadows of life are caused by standing in our own sunshine."_  
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

* * *

S u n b u r n

"I think I figured it out," Bella said all of a sudden, jumping from the work bench in Jacob's garage and landing on her feet with as much grave as an anteater.

"Figured out what, Bells?" a muffled voice asked from underneath the red Rabbit, a pair of very well-shaped and very russet legs and feet peaking out.

"Why I'm always being so… dark and moody," Bella explained almost cheerfully, slowly stepping closer towards the car. The only answer she got was a half-curious, half-indifferent _hmm_.

"I'm standing in the way of my own happiness. I have my sunglasses on and sun block all over me and hide inside the basement. I _could_ go outside and get a sunburn but I decided not to. But I think I want to change that."

Bella could not see Jacob stopping his work beneath the car. Jacob could hear Bella's clumsy steps coming closer towards him. What he was not prepared for was the soft pair of lips that suddenly brushed against his left knee and the onslaught of tickles that raced through his veins.

He jerked his leg away from the dangerous weapon Bella had just discovered, bumped his knee into the car into the process and ended up cursing wildly.

Bella was kneeling on the dusty ground, grinning brightly as she watched Jake crawl out from underneath the car, a flood of _damn, crap, shit _and_ fuck it_'s echoing in the garage.

"What exactly are you trying to say, Bells?" Jacob asked dumbly, petting his knee (unsure whether it was the bump against his beloved car or the touch of those beloved and long-yearned-for lips that caused the numbness of his skin) and mustering the foreign expression on Bella's face – way too close to him for her usual standards.

"I'm saying that I want to get a sunburn," she whispered and before Jacob could quite figure out what the hell Bella was talking about, she had her lips pressed firmly against his, pushing him into the driver's door of the Rabbit.

He considered stopping her for about one second – needing to know if this was what she really wanted, if she was sure that she was not just doing this to try to make him happy – but then his brain waved _goodbye_ and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her onto his lap – all to willing to give her one hell of a sunburn.


	21. Pack Secrets

I was given this prompt: _The Pack competes on who can get Bella Swan the best birthday present._

_

* * *

_P a c k. S e c r e t s.

Bella looked around Jacob's living room with a wrinkled forehead and her lips pressed together in a line as thin as paper.

She stood in the centre of a circle of five not-quite-looking-their-age-teenagers, a pile of clumsily wrapped gifts next to her.

"Why are you all staring at me like that?" she asked in a mixture of annoyance and a very unpleasant feeling of being stalked.

They all shrugged with their massive shoulders, glaring at each other for a splint second before Seth waved his hands enthusiastically. "Come on, Bella. Open them!".

Rolling her eyes and sighing loudly, Bella kneeled next to the pile of gifts and started unwrapping them.

The first thing that fell into her hands was a compass. She snorted. "Who gave me that?"

"Wait until the end, honey," Jacob explained, a smug grin on his face.

Bella considered asking further for a second but when she saw the eager expressions on all of the boys faces she knew this must be another pack shenanigan and so she went back to unwillingly unwrapping the presents.

The largest box of band-aids she had ever seen received another snort from her as well as the kneepads. She shook her head, praying that this ridiculous gift-unwrapping-party-thing going on was everything they had planned for today. She had hoped to spent it with Jacob alone.

"What the…," she stammered as she suddenly found herself holding up a rather explicit and very obviously X-rated DVD. She could feel her cheeks turning neon-red and quickly dropped the cause of her humiliation onto the pile of wrapping paper on the floor.

Avoiding the gazes of the five teenage boys around her but hearing their muffled laughter, Bella quickly grabbed the last present, a tiny box wrapped in bright red paper. Inside was a black, velvety box and her heart skipped a beat. With trembling fingers she opened the box, revealing an ancient-looking key.

"So, honey. Time to tell. Which one is your favorite?"

Bella stumbled onto her feet, the box with the key still in her hand and she faced Jacob, looking confused.

"What is going on here?" she asked.

"You choose the best gift and get to spend your entire birthday with the lucky winner," Quil explained brightly and Bella felt her stomach clench. Amazing. Those boys really knew how to mess up her non-existing plans.

"So, which one is it?"

"I don't want to choose the best gift," she stammered, looking down curiously at the key in her hands.

"You have to, Swan. Or we'll call Charlie and tell him we picked you up naked and drunk at the store," Embry grinned, earning himself a clap on the shoulder from Seth.

Bella looked up, searching for Jacob's eyes and she saw both the understanding and the smug grin in them.

"Just get it over with, honey."

She groaned, scanning the gifts on the floor, feeling her cheeks warm up _again_ when one specific appeared in her peripheral vision.

"This," she finally said calmly, waving with the tiny box in her hands.

Her answer caused a wave of four husky groans.

"Such a _girl_."

"Corny."

"Out of all the awesomeness she chooses a goddamn _key_."

Seth, Embry, Jared and Quil shook their heads, slowly pushing and punching each other out of the room.

"Thanks guys, though," Bella yelled after them, laughing quietly when she only heard disapproving mumbles from the front door.

She turned to see Jacob smiling brightly at her and before she could make a first step, he had her in his arms.

"You really scared me for a moment. I really thought you'd pick the movie," Jacob whispered into her ear.

"Who got me that?" Bella asked, eyes closed in contentment.

"Not telling. Pack secret." She groaned and pushed out of the embrace, circling the key around her index finger.

"So, what is this for?"

Jacob grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the door full of excitement.

"Your actual present."


	22. Brighter than Sunshine

I was given this prompt: _And you've got a smile that can light up this hole town._

_

* * *

_B r i g h t e r. t h a n. S u n s h i n e.

"What are you staring at, Bells?" Jacob's voice is quiet and peaceful, almost a lazy whisper. His fingers trace wavy patterns on Bella's bare back and he presses her close against his chest.

"Your lips," she murmurs, her own hands wrapped around him, holding herself in place.

"Why? You want another kiss?" he asks with a mischievous grin, leaning down to brush his lips against hers – softer than the ones they had shared during the previous hour.

"That's not why I was staring – but it's most definitely worth it."

"Well, if it weren't my fiery kisses, what else is so stare-worthy about my lips? I don't have spinach between my teeth, right?" Jacob asks, switching from mock-Casanova mood into mock-girly mood within a mere second.

Bella laughs light-heartedly, pressing her nose into the firm but soft skin of Jacob's chest.

"It's your smile," she whispers contently.

"My smile?"

"Yeah. It's… bright. Literally. I'm pretty sure you could light up the room if we ever have a blackout. It makes me feel all… fuzzy."

The words are hushed and muffled by Bella's face buried in his chest and Jacob knows that saying these things out loud are something not easily to be expected from her.

He kisses the top of her head and makes sure she can feel the bright smile on his lips.


	23. Stories

I was given this prompt: 

_I put my hand on you. Touching you was always so important to me. It was something I lived for. I never could explain why. Little, nothing touches. My fingers against your shoulder. The outsides of our thighs touching as we squeezed together on the bus. I couldn't explain it, but I needed it. Sometimes I imagined stitching all of our touches together. How many hundreds of thousands of fingers brushing against each other does it take to make love?_

_

* * *

_S t o r i e s

People just like listening to stories. As innocent children, as curious teenagers, as indifferent adult and at an old age when one might think you have heard all stories worth telling.

Sometimes people would ask them – just because it was such a common question, so simple and yet it offered the most amazing stories from time to time.

_How did you meet? How did you get together?_

Bella and Jacob never quite knew how to answer those questions. Not because they did not want to share their story but because there was no real story to tell, no real plot. No excitement or drama. And so they always decided on the short version: childhood friends, eventually falling in love.

They both knew so well that it had never been that simple. There had never been a certain point in their relationship when either of them had felt a progress or a development in their feelings for each other. For Jacob, Bella had always been _the one_. And for Bella, Jacob had always been _a part from her_.

There had been no declaration, no dates, no introductions to the parents.

No real changes.

Holding her hand. Holding on to his arm. Hugging her _hello_ and _goodbye_. Touching his knee. Bumping their thighs into each other. Giving him a massage. Brushing a strand of hair out of her face. Rubbing sun lotion on her back.

Kissing him on the cheek. Brushing the tiny piece of skin between her jeans and shirt while hugging her. Putting a hand on his thigh. Running his hands through her hair. Kissing her earlobe when whispering something unnecessary into her ear. Crawling underneath the Rabbit next to him.

Sitting on his lap at a bonfire – with their fathers around. Arms touching during dinner – with their fathers around. A kiss on her forehead for _goodbye_ – with his father watching from the porch.

Kissing him on the lips shyly during a boring movie on television. Nuzzling her neck with his nose. Touching his chest for no obvious reason. Slipping his hand beneath her shirt and touching her stomach. Holding her in her sleep. Playing footsie underneath the table.

Unclasping her bra with trembling fingers. Pulling at the waistband of his boxers with a bright red face. Touching her naked back. Feeling his stomach underneath her palms. Wrapping her thighs around him. Pulling him closer.

Kissing each other – in front of her classmates. Holding hands – while talking to her father. Biting her neck – during a bonfire.

Holding her hand.

Holding on to his arm.

Dropping a ring into her palm.

Touching his knee.

Giving him a massage.

Kissing her swollen stomach.

Sitting on his lap at the beach.

Fingers always trembling.

Face always tinted red.

Bella and Jacob do not know how to tell their story to anyone. It is _their_ story, after all.

_How did you meet? How did you get together?_

It had just happened. Somehow they had gotten here.


	24. Farewell

I was given the following prompt: _Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there I do not sleep. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there I did not die. _

_

* * *

_

F a r e w e l l

It had been Edward Cullen of all people to tell him. Standing in front of his door, breaking the treaty. A look of agonizing indifference about it on his face.

He had been on his way to Italy. Asked Jacob if he remembered their conversation in the tent in the mountains. Of course. Only a few months ago.

_I might actually like you._

"You deserve to know what really happened."

She is gone. Actually gone. Not changed, not cold like marble but cold as the earth in a grave. Not a lifeless vampire but a lifeless human. Dead.

Gone.

_B e l l s._

Jacob only remembers fragments of Edward Cullen's voice.

_control, blood, too weak, no chance, Italy, be with her_

After everything, all her fights to become one of _them_… she had been too weak. Or he had been too strong. What difference does it make now?

"Farewell, Jacob."

Edward Cullen disappears into the glossy sunlight and Jacob would never see him again.

o . o . o

A week later he stands next to Seth Clearwater, feeling the young boy shake slightly as the coffin slowly sinks into the ground.

Accident. Sliced-open aorta.

_Dead._

He does not cry like Seth or Emily standing near by, or all those kids from Bella's school he barely remembers. He just stands there and hopes that all of this would be over soon so he could go home and lock himself in his garage,

_Their _place. His place now. Again. Like it had been for so long before she had made it _hers_.

o . o . o

It had been her choice.

o . o . o

And so Jacob slowly wanders home, trying to find some kind of optimistic apology he can make up for himself.

Because she _is _dead.

But after all… she had been for a very long time.


	25. Not Tonight

I was given this prompt:

___Let's not fight  
I'm tired can't we just sleep tonight  
don't turn away  
it's just there's nothing left here to say  
Turn around  
I know we're lost but soon we'll be found._

Sia - Soon we'll be found

* * *

N o t. T o n i g h t.

They both breathe heavily, lying on the kitchen floor – Jacob only in his shorts and Bella still covered in many layers of clothing, the raincoat still shining with little droplets.

Neither of them know really how they ended up laying there, Bella cuddled into Jacob's side, arms wrapped around him, cheek on his heaving chest.

Another fight. Always fights these days. Waste of the scarce and precious minutes Jacob got to share with Bella now that her _fiancé_ controlled whom she could see and who not.

It made Jacob sick. But Bella would not understand. And that made him even angrier.

Usually, their afternoons together these days ended with Bella storming off towards the treaty line on her own, Jacob long having given up following her. He would just have to face more of her death-stares and his bad conscious.

But tonight… had been different.

She had entered his kitchen not with her usual smile but already with an anger-filled fury in her eyes, yelling at Jacob, waving her arms, screaming and throwing words at him he never even knew she had knowledge of.

He had countered. Of course he had. She tried to blame him for something she called her own _indecisiveness_ and somehow they had ended up tussling, pushing against each other.

And then the world had gone silent.

They were both so tired. Weary.

Realization hit them that they wasted what little time they were given. And with a sigh they released all the tension that could never be lessened by pushing and screaming and running away.

Jacob carefully brushes a strand of her out of Bella's eye and she smiles weakly up at him. Weakly, but honestly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, closing her eyes.

Billy finds the two of them sleeping on the kitchen floor later than afternoon, smiling sadly before quickly leaving the house again.

Just for tonight they would have a little bit of peace.


	26. Weaknesses

I was given this fun prompt: _Jacob and Bella playing Twister._

* * *

W e a k n e s s e s

"Ouch! Jake, that was my toe!"

"I don't get how your tiny feet can always get into my way."

"You're just too big. You shouldn't play this. It's unfair."

"Why? You're just a sore loser."

"I am _not_ losing this and it's unfair because you don't even have to stretch."

"Red, Bells. Put your right hand on something red for heaven's sake. You're no fun."

Bella's head turned as red as the dot she was supposed to put her hand on but she tried to focus on that instead of the boyish grin on Jacob's relaxed face.

He was pretty much towering over her, one of his hands by her head, his foot by hers and his head strangely twisted hovering over her stomach. Still, there seemed to be no effort behind the awkward posture.

Bella, on the other hand, was covered with tiny droplets of sweat all over her forehead, hair sticking to it, body stretched to it's full extend like a push-up backwards.

She turned her head, looking for something red to put her hand on and groaned.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"What?" Jacob asked innocently, his eyes flickering down toward the only possible red spot for Bella to place her hand on.

"You… _argh_… push yourself up," Bella commanded, glad that her face was already anger-flushed so Jacob would not notice the embarrassment-blush that currently took over on her face.

"Why would I?"

"Because you… are in my way," Bella finished lamely, pointing her chin towards Jacob's hips hovering right above her destination.

"Sorry, honey," he said a little too quietly for it to be purely platonic and Bella avoided his gaze as she inhaled deeply and quickly put her hand on the red dot. Although Jacob had indeed lifted himself further of the flimsy plastic mat, Bella's hand still brushed the front of his jeans and he gulped.

Bella cleared her throat awkwardly, unsure whether she should jerk her hand away and lose the game or to keep it where it was and hope for Jacob to lift his hips up higher.

Gathering up all her courage and forcing something onto her face of which she hoped that it resembled Jacob's famous smug grin, she threw an expectant gaze at Jacob, clearly indicating that she was waiting for him to do the next move.

Needless to add that Bella in fact won the game.


	27. Like a Virgin

I was given this prompt:

_i'm so obsessed / my heart is bound to beat right out my untrimmed chest / i believe in you / like a virgin, you're madonna / and i'm always gonna want to blow your mind_

_

* * *

_L i k e. a. V i r g i n.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid. Black, you are stupid._

The mantra repeats itself endlessly as Jacob wanders around his room, turning the box of candy hearts in his hand as if it were an hour glass. His gaze fixed on the picture frame on top of his drawer from time to time, fingers reaching out to tame his black hair, pushing it behind his ear.

He can practically hear Embry and Quil barking at him and he knows that he takes a huge risk by doing what he plans to do. But still, Jacob knows that it takes taking risks to move forward.

And if there was one thing he wanted his _Bells_ to do – it was moving forward.

When he heard the familiar truck pull up in front of the house he exhaled loudly, his heart beating as frantically as it last had when he had (accidentally) surprised Rachel's best friend naked in the bathroom.

_You can do this, Black. _

When he saw her climbing out of her truck, his heart immediately started to swell – like it always did when she was around.

He had always been very kind and loving to other people, his heart literally open for everyone to make their way in.

But with Bella Swan it was something different. He wanted to throw everyone else out, close his heart, lock it with a dozen keys and keep her in. Only her.

It would be enough.

He knew, though, she was not ready to take his heart, to nestle there in a place she would always be warm and taken care of and loved.

So, the cheap box of candy hearts would have to be sufficient for now.

And Jacob has to realize that all humiliation he might be getting for this was all worth seeing that tiny hint of a blush and an almost grinning smile on Bella's face.


	28. Let's get Lost

I was given the following prompt: _Dom!Jake would be awesome, but I will settle for just about any Jake/Bells smut. :) (Just one of those nights...)_

_

* * *

_L e t ' s. G e t. L o s.t.

_he pushes her into the raw wooden wall_ of Emily's house and she whimpers, fear and desire fighting for dominance inside of her.

he licks a burning trail from her earlobe to the border of her bare collarbone and the cotton of her dress

The mere idea of being caught like this or that one of the others might hear them from inside makes her chest flutter uncomfortably. The humiliation would be ground shaking.

_his palm strokes over her breasts, lazy fingers pinching the hardening peaks_ _for a mere second before passing farther south_

Her inhibitions are quickly burned down as a primal desire takes over her body, causing her knees to waver beneath her, unwilling to maintain the necessary strength of muscle to keep her on her feet.

_his hand slipping underneath the hem of her dress and kneading her inner thigh_

It had been much too long since they had the chance to be this close to each other and tonight would just be another one of those nights they had to share with others.

_lips moving sensually, greedily against hers, nibbling her earlobe, biting her neck softly_

Bella tries desperately to suffocate the sounds she longs to make, her fingers on a blindfolded path between her body and Jacob's, fumbling with the button of his cut-offs.

_strong arms lifting her up_, she wraps her legs around his waist, _lusty appetent fingers pulling aside the cotton of her underwear_, her numb fingers manage to open his pants, _a growl that rumbles in his chest_, she pushes the rough denim down his hips.

An almost pain-filled groan erupts from Bella's throat as _he pushes into her_ quicker than she had expected, her nails digging into his shoulders.

lips burning, hands roaming, legs trembling, hips grinding, breaths seizing, eyes rolling, worlds shaking

They were so going to get caught, Bella knew it. But she could not care less as she tried to pull Jacob as close to her as possible, wanting him to _crawl underneath her skin_


	29. Phone Calls

I was given the following song as a prompt: _Need you now_ by Lady Antebellum

* * *

P h o n e. C a l l s.

_3.14 p.m_

The thought of a telephone pops up in Jacob's head as he slowly, always so carefully, removes a part from the Rabbit's engine.

_4.53 p.m._

He hears Billy talking to Sue on the phone as he slips into the bathroom, washing his grease-stained hands before sitting on the edge of the bathtub for ten minutes for no reason.

_5.01. p.m._

Billy still chatters on the phone, waving in Jacob's direction when he sees his son passing by – back on his way outside.

_6.47 p.m._

Jacob stirs the tomato sauce when the phone rings.

_6.50 p.m._

"Why didn't you answer the phone?" Billy asks as he comes out of the bathroom. Jacob does not answer.

_7.38 p.m._

Jacob's eyes keep flickering over to the dark-grey piece of plastic in his peripheral vision as he brutally pushes the bright buttons of the remote control.

_10.27 p.m._

He is lying on his back in his bed, still dressed, arms crossed beneath his head, staring at the ceiling.

_11.09 p.m._

He jerks out of sleep – or at least that ungrateful state between awake and asleep which was the most he got these days. No rest. Only stirring him up more.

_11.11 p.m._

With a throbbing headache Jacob heaves himself out of bed.

_11.12 p.m._

With fierce determination he heads into the direction of the phone, only to make a big swirl a metre in front of it, aiming for the kitchen instead.

_11.14. p.m._

Sighing, he pulls out a bottle of beer from the fridge.

_01.01 a.m._

Surrounded by six empty bottles of beer he sits – legs crossed – on the floor of his garage, staring ahead blankly. Trying to make sense of everything. Anything.

_01.57 a.m._

He is back inside, trembling fingers hovering over the phone.

_02.14. a.m._

Hovering. Breathing.

_02.36 a.m._

He dials the first number. Quickly presses the red button again.

_03.03 a.m._

Her complete phone number shines from the display in the dark living room.

_03.04 a.m._

Red button.

_03.18 a.m._

It rings. Monotone. Twice. He hangs up.

_03.31 a.m._

He brakes his promise.

It rings and rings and rings and rings and rings and then a sleepy _hello_ causes his lips to pull apart in a bitter grin.

_Hey, Bells._

_Jake? What the hell?_

_Sorry. I know it's late and I promised I wouldn't bother you._

_Then why are you calling me in the middle of the night?_

_I need you. And I'm so sorry. But I can't help it. I can't wait for you to make a choice. I need you. Right now._ _Please, Bells_.

_03.56 a.m._

He hears a familiar truck pull up in front of his house.

_05.21 a.m._

Jacob falls asleep for the first time in a long time, a peaceful slumber relaxing his strained body and mind, Bella breathing evenly in his arms.


	30. Of Pots, Hairspray and Burning Sinks

I was given the following fun prompt: _Bella sees a cockroach in her kitchen and does everything she can think of to kill it._

_

* * *

_O f. P o t s , H a i r s p r a y. a n d. b u r n i n g. S i n k s

It was a sight Jacob would never forget. Never.

Bella had invited him for dinner and here he stood in the door of her kitchen, staring ahead blankly – unsure whether to laugh right away because this _had_ to be another Bella-moment, or to be concerned.

To say the kitchen was a mess would be the understatement of the week. There was food everywhere, pots thrown around, shattered glass, scattered silverware, hairspray standing on a chair on top of a counter, a broom on the floor, something that looked like a miniature bonfire burning in the sink and Bella sitting on the kitchen table, holding a silver pot in her hand – carefully pressing down the lid.

"What…ehm… is going on here, Bells? Everything alright?" Jacob asked lamely, still unsure of how to react given he did not have the slightest idea of what had happened here. Either Bella had gotten into one of her wars against herself and her clumsiness, or something had exploded and caused this mess or she had been attacked by some burglar who was after silverware.

Jacob slowly stepped through the mess on the floor, careful not to slip on a tomato, and made his way to the sink where he turned on the water to prevent the burning towel in there from burning down the entire house.

Only when he turned around he could see the silent tears streaming down Bella's sweaty face.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, hurrying over to wrap his arms around her.

"I couldn't kill it," Bella said breathlessly, carefully waving with the pot in her hand.

"Kill what?" Jacob asked confused, brushing his hand through Bella's hair while the other reached out for the pot. Bella jerked it away immediately.

"No, don't open it in here! It took me an hour to catch it after I realized I couldn't kill it."

"Don't tell me you have a spider in there, Bells. Because I'll have to laugh, as sorry as I would be."

"It's. _Not_. A. Spider."

Bella's face was growing furious and Jacob knew that he had to react quickly.

"Okay, whatever it is, do you want me to take care of it? Outside?"

"Please," she whispered, closing her eyes in defeat.

When Jacob opened the pot outside of the house he wrinkled his nose in disgust. A cockroach.

„Did you kill it?"

Bella was busy cleaning up the mess she had made when Jacob stepped back into the kitchen with the empty pot.

"Yes. Cut it in four, stamped the pieces and buried them in the ground in the forest. That one should never see this kitchen again."

"Thank you," Bella smiled.

"No big deal. But Bells…tell me one thing."

"What?"

"You did not honestly put hairspray on that thing and tried to burn it?"

The bright red blush on Bella's face was all the answer Jacob needed and he burst into a barking laughter.


	31. Sunsets

I was given this prompt:

_Someday my pain will mark you. / ____And the story's all over you / ____What might have been lost._

___

* * *

_S u n s e t s

The sun is setting, sky as red as the blush on her face used to be. He watches her wipe a droplet of blood from her lips, the deer by her feet drained. Empty.

Just like him.

He does not know why he still accompanies her. They have been doing this for over a decade now. Always Fridays. Hunting together. Chasing each other through the woods.

He kissed her once (he just needed to know if at least her lips were still as soft as he remembers them to be – they were not), she had stared at him after he phased back (maybe she had just wanted a peek of what else she could have had), they had made love by a river once (because neither of them could deny that they wanted it).

All that happened between them was on these Fridays.

Everything she is tells a story. One only Jacob knows. Because to him, she is a different person than to everyone else.

"Why are you staring at me?" she asks, her voice always so _wrong_. So crystal clear. (he had pretended that it was his old Bells who sighed _Jake_ into his ear when he made love to her) Whenever they talked, whenever she parted her lips to speak, he was reminded of how wrong everything was.

He shakes his head but keeps on staring.

Many times he had considered to stop this. To ask her to hunt with Alice instead. But he could never actually do it. Letting go.

Those Fridays are the only time he had alone with her. Where they can be just the two of them. And somewhere, deep down, Jacob still has that childish hope that if he only loves her enough, she would be his old Bells again.

But no matter how often he steals a kiss, or holds her icy hand or makes love to her – she would always and forever be this frozen doll.

He can see it in her eyes. She understands.

And with the years passing Jacob's hope slowly turns into something close to vengeance. Why should he be the only one to feel this pain?

Why not let her know how much everything that they could have been hurts him even now?

"Let's go home," she says, running her hand through his fur and he shivers.

He wants her to stay with him.

No matter who she is now.

He still hopes that he could just love her enough to turn back time.


	32. Helping the Poor

I was given this prompt: _Bella is pregnant and horny out of her mind and a little crazy. Jacob's a little terrified of her, and hides._

_

* * *

_H e l p i n g. t h e. P o o r.

Seth needed to blink three times to make sure that what he was seeing was really true.

It was so out-of-place and hilarious that Seth denied trust his eyesight for the fragment of a second. This could not really be…

"Jake?"

Yes. He knew that face. He knew that guy who was currently crouched behind a bush in Sue Clearwater's front yard.

Jacob's face lifted up when he saw and heard Seth next to him, staring at him in disbelief.

"What the hell are you doing in my mother's yard?" Seth asked, burying his hands in his back pockets.

Jacob's eyes were focussed on the street – on full alert.

"Did I miss something? Wait… isn't it your anniversary today? Why aren't you with Bella?"

Between the tensed expression on Jacob's face and the image of him crouched behind a bush, Seth did not know whether he should help Jake (with whatever problem he had) or to just burst out in laughter.

"Yesterday. Our anniversary was yesterday. And, to be honest, I'm hiding from Bella."

Seth could not help it anymore. He snorted, his massive chest trembling from the laughter he tried to suppress so to not hurt Jacob's feelings.

"You are what?"

"Hiding. From Bella."

"Can I ask why?" Seth said quietly, deciding to take part in this little game Jacob had going on. He kneeled down next to him, hoping dearly that his mother would not look out of the kitchen window. That would mean a lot of explanations and trademark remarks from his sister.

Jacob sighed, turned to face Seth and then groaned loudly.

"Man, I'm going nuts. She's… well… fuck. Since she's pregnant she can't be saturated."

"Well, I guess that's normal with pregnant women," Seth tried to calm Jacob, not quite understanding the problematic in this situation. "Are you broke or something?"

The only answer he got was another groan.

"Not food, man," Jacob explained, making a facial expression that was obviously supposed to hint at something. But all Seth could read from that face was that Jacob definitely had never had plastic surgery.

He shrugged, shaking his head and for a splint second saw a blush tinting Jacob's face.

"She constantly wants to… you know…"

_Drip, drip drip_… Slowly, the message that lay hidden behind Jacob's short-cut words sank into Seth's brain and when it finally snapped, blood started to flush his own face.

"Oh," was his intellectual answer and Jacob buried his head in his palms.

"We… well… We did it three times last night and she still didn't have enough. I had to keep picturing Cullen naked to make my dick cooperate with my sleep schedule. She's _always_ clinging to me and fumbling with my clothes and walking around naked and –"

"Hey, Jake," Seth interrupted him, holding up his flat hand as if he was playing pantomime. "I don't think… I really want to know all the details."

Jacob's eyes shot open for a second before he sunk closer to the ground, pressing his hands flat into the soft grass.

"Sorry. It's just… it's not that I don't _want_ to. Just… not all the time. I feel like a breeding bull crossbred with a callboy. I love her, man. Really. And I'm happy that we're having a baby. But… if she keeps up this schedule I'll never want to have sex again. Honestly. It's ruining all the fun."

"Have you talked to her about it?"

Jacob snorted, raising his eyebrows mockingly.

"She's pregnant, Seth. Apart from being the horniest woman on the planet she also has the most drastic fury attacks. Last week she knocked over an _empty_ glass on the table – it didn't even _break_ - and she completely lost it. She screamed and smashed her plate onto the floor. She never did things like that before. So, the last thing I'm going to do is confront her with this… thing going on."

Seth was thoughtful for a little while, staring ahead into the nearby forest and finally coming to the conclusion that this was a problem between Jacob and Bella and that Jacob was old enough to clear those problems himself.

"Listen, Jake. Maybe you should try talking to her. I can't help you," he said with a sympathetic smile, raising back onto his feet. "But you can stay here for as long as you like."

Jacob laughed at the offered sanctuary and mumbled _thank you_ to Seth before focusing his eyes back on the street.

When Seth stepped into the hallway, Sue came rushing downstairs, hugging her son tightly to her.

"Hey, Mom," he said, patting Sue's back. "If you should see a conspicuous-looking man in your front yard – don't worry. You'd do something good for society if you just ignored him."


	33. One Wish

Written for the December drabble challenge at _The Air, the Sun_.

* * *

One Wish

The doorbell rang the moment the dagger bored itself into Juliet, ending hours of agonizing tragedy and Bella's tears turned into rage.

This was not how she had planned things out This was supposed to be her evening, no matter the fact it was Christmas Eve and she should not be spending it alone. But Charlie had taken Billy ice fishing for a few days, Reneé was on a cruiser in the Caribbean and Jacob... well, Bella was not quite sure where he was. They had not been on best terms since last week, when he had decided to take a step too far and kiss her. Bella had known his feelings, had known she was hurting him by wanting to be just friends, by being too broken to go any further than him holding her hand occasionally. She had trusted him. And he had gone too far.

She had made her plans for Christmas Eve, buried in her favorite blanket, watching a movie that she hoped would one day make her appreciate her own life more, the only lights in the room the colorful ones reflecting from the Christmas tree and the candles flickering across the room, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Her pizza was only half eaten, debris of ice cream still left. Only a few more minutes and Bella would have sunken into the warmth of a bubble bath with her overused copy of Wuthering Heights.

Now, some crazy person suicidal enough to walk or drive through the blizzard outside, had to mess up the one night she wanted peace.

Bella stumbled, the blanket wrapped around her like a cocoon, making her way to the door.

When she opened it, the ice-cold wind blew a load of snow inside. But that was the last thing she was paying attention to, being more focused on her best friend standing in front of her, smiling apologetically, holding up his hands in defeat.

"What are you doing here?" Bella asked, trying to be furious although she knew she could never be mad at Jacob for long. Not with that smile and those loose strands of hair and that faint blush on his russet cheeks...

"Nobody should spend Christmas alone and I figured, if you were going to murder me anyway, a Christmas massacre would give Quil and Embry the most to talk about. I didn't even get you anything - I know that would've increased the brutality you would conjure up with those little fingers."

A million thoughts raced through Bella's mind and suddenly, the fade memory of Jacob's hesitant lips flooded her every fiber.

Hearing the quite music of the ending credits, feeling the snow blowing against her cheeks, she suddenly understood what Christmas was all about.

"I have a wish."

"Wh-what?"

"Kiss me."

When Jacob pressed his lips against hers, Bella stumbled from the urgency, both of them landing on the hallway floor.

They did not make it much further that night.


	34. Wishes

Written for the January drabbel challenge at _The Air, the Sun_. The prompt was **First Kiss**.

* * *

Wishes

"Jake?" Bella asked hesitantly, wiping her hands on a towel as Jacob appeared back in the kitchen door.

"Yeah?"

"You know I really like Quil and Embry, right?" Bella looked tired these days, Jacob noticed. He had eyed the dark rings surrounding her eyes the entire afternoon, but now he realized that her entire body looked limp.

"What about them?" he asked, stepping into his cramped kitchen, coming to a halt directly in front of Bella. He had to suppress the grin on his face as he bent down his head to be able to look at her.

"But the next time I say I want to spend my birthday without any fuss, just watching a movie with you, could you please _somehow _keep them away?" Bella sighed, not quite able to suppress the smile that tingled on her lips.

She stood there, chin raised as high as she could to look at Jacob's face, fingers fumbling with the pockets of her jeans.

"Any specific reason you wanted to spend your birthday with me?" Jacob asked, knowing there was no use in hiding the smug undertone. She always knew when he was probing their borders.

"I just wanted this to be a day like any other, Jake," Bella groaned. "Why is that so difficult to understand?" She turned around, facing the sink, hands now pressed against her hips.

Jacob smiled. She was so adorably cute when she was whiney like this. But then he remembered the shadows around her eyes, the way there seemed to be no force in the push of her hands, no strength in her legs to keep her standing.

"Bells," Jacob whispered, stepping right behind her, so close he felt the warmth of her back radiating against his bare chest. He could see her entire body shiver as he gently placed his hands on hers, pulling them forward so two pairs of arms were wrapped around her stomach.

"W-what are you doing, Jacob?" Bella asked nervously, as Jacob started to nuzzle his nose against her neck.

"Showing you how _I_ want every single day to be like. And you _never_ let that happen," Jacob whispered, making sure to let Bella feel his every breath against her skin. He saw her throat rise as she swallowed, and was surprised as she turned her head around slightly, just enough for him to look into her tired eyes.

"What exactly do you want, Jake?" she asked, looking so deep into his eyes that Jacob wondered if she could already see the answer in his soul.

He did not hesitate, closing the small distance between them, gently, softly, carefully brushing his lips against hers. It was so light and gentle that he did not even know if this counted as a kiss, but the hell with it. Bella was pushing herself further into the warmth of his embrace, gripping his arm with her cool fingers, sighing into their maybe-maybe-not kiss.

At least _he_ got his wish fulfilled that day.


	35. In the Eye of Death

Written for the January drabble challenge at _The Air, the Sun_. The prompt was **First Kiss.**

* * *

In the Eye of Death

„Jake, I don't think this is going to bring anything."

"Just try again one more time," Jacob called from underneath the hood of Bella's beloved truck. She sighed, turning the key for the fifteenth time this afternoon. This was a hopeless case. There was some supernatural, instinctual bond between her and this car and she could feel that its time had finally come.

"Damn it," Jacob cursed and Bella sighed again. He would not give up. This had been his gift to her, if it died now…

"Come on, Jake. It's getting cold in here. You could just… try again later."

Bella almost knocked her head against the roof of the truth when she jumped, the loud bang from the hood falling closed unexpected. The next second, Jacob was sitting next to her in the truck, staring ahead blankly.

The awkward silence that fell over them reminded Bella of a funeral, but then she remembered that she had never actually attended one.

"So, what are we doing now?" she asked, biting her lower lip because she did not really know what to say or do. Losing her truck hurt, yes. But it seemed to mean a lot more to Jacob that he was not capable of fixing it this time.

Suddenly, Bella felt warm fingers gently gripping her chin, turning her head around, and before she knew what was happening, a pair of warm, soft lips pressed urgently against her own.

The moment of shock quickly subsided, and Bella felt her heartbeat fasten, her fingers trembling as she grabbed onto Jacob's arms, closing her eyes, giving in to the urgent push of his lips. She could feel his fear as his tongue gently brushed against her lower lip, a low groan in his chest begging for her to let him in.

And although Bella was just as scared of this development between them as Jacob was of losing her or coming to a point where he would not be able to fix her anymore, she buried her fear somewhere deep down, parting her lips gently, sighing, hoping and begging that Charlie would not come home from work just now.


	36. Here to Stay

Written for the _The Air, the Sun_ drabble contest.

* * *

**Here to stay**

_Once upon a time, Jacob would have given his life to prove the girl he loved how right he was for her._

_Once upon a time, this girl would have given her life, her warmth, her breath, her heartbeat to spend eternity with who she thought was _The One_._

As Jacob lies in the dark, his palm supporting his head, eyelids heavy with sleep, he stares at Bella's sleeping figure beside him, curled up against his side. Every single one of her breaths pushes her closer to him, her bare back brushing coolly against his warm chest.

Rain drums heavily against the windows, a washcloth provisory filling a leak in the frame that Jacob has not fixed yet, a cold breeze running through the small room. Jacob wraps his arm around Bella, pulling her closer to him to shield her from the cold, making a note in his head to buy a space heater for the bedroom tomorrow before she catches a cold.

He knows there is no money for that, but as he kisses Bella's temple, hearing her mutter incomprehensible words in her sleep, her face so utterly peaceful, Jacob knows that this is how everything was meant to be.

If there is something like fate or a common notion of love, Jacob is so sure that it is his purpose to keep Bella warm right now, to work more extra shifts in the garage to afford a space heater.

Bella has no clue that he had been saving cent per cent over the last months, making plans for a nice dinner before the first snow would fall. He knows it is unnecessary, that Bella does not care about fancy restaurants or sophisticated food. But he wants to give her something special, something they do not, can not, have every day.

His mother's ring lays hidden in his garage, waiting for the right time.

"Why are you awake?" a sleepy voice rasps in the darkness, and Jacob smiles down at Bella's peaceful face looking up at him.

"Just thinking, honey," he whispers, gently kissing her soft lips, "Go back to sleep."

But he can already hear Bella's even breathing as she snuggles closer to him, her cold fingers clutching his hand resting on her stomach.

Jacob knows this is exactly how it is meant to be. As easy as breathing, no matter how hard it might be. Bella here in his arms, free to leave, free for all the possibilities her beating heart has to offer. But Jacob is more confident than ever, knowing she has come to stay this time.


	37. Like a Bird

Written for the _The Air, the Sun_ drabble contest.

* * *

**Like a Bird**

The sound of the bubbling tomato sauce on the stove mixed with the ticking of the ancient clock on the kitchen wall, as Bella stood motionless in front of the table.

She stared down at the dozens of cards, all colours, every material she could imagine, and yet nothing seemed to stick out, to draw her attention. She was blank inside, her mind and heart both unwilling to make this decision that Alice had urged her into. _Invitations have to be send out first, you have to pick them as soon as possible_.

Bella wanted to feel so much like a little bird, curious, eager to leave the nest. So hard she tried to show interest in dresses, flowers, menus and locations. But no matter how hard she tried, it all seemed foreign to her, annoying, a burden.

She knew she did not want to spread her wings and fly. What she did not know was how to not let anyone else push her out of the safety of the nest. How would she ever survive the fall?

A pounding on the front door interrupted Bella's thoughts, her forehead wrinkling as she stepped into the hallway. Charlie had keys, and she did not expect anyone today.

Later, Bella would know that the moment she opened the door and let in the chilly air, she saved her life, secured herself within the nest until the right moment had come.

"_Bells_," Jacob sighed, standing in front of her naked, unwashed, dark shadows underneath his eyes, "You're still alive."

"You're back," Bella retorted bluntly, her eyes flickering up and down her best friend's body, too ashamed to rest on some places, and the hurt too agonizing to focus on others.

Just like she had not answered him, Jacob never answered her. Instead, Bella suddenly felt two warm arms wrap around her, felt her feet stumbling backwards, heard the door falling closed – all before she felt a pair of soft, warm lips on her own.

The memory of his kiss in the mountains had haunted her dreams ever since, and forgetting everything else, the fact that she was engaged, supposed to pick wedding invitations, had plans for the future, was in love with someone else, she could not help but wrap her hands around Jacob's bare waist, aware of the tingling sensation in her stomach as Jacob pushed her gently but urgently up against the wall, his lips never tiring.

She could feel every inch of his warm body pressing against her own, her fingers digging into his back as his lips left hers, his head buried in the crook of her neck instead.

Feeling his tears before she heard his choked breathing, Bella closed her eyes in shame of hurting him so much.

"Please, Bells. All I want is for you to love me back. Because… I love you _so damn_ much. Stay with me."

In this moment, Bella felt something she had never felt before. Beautiful, free, complete.

"I'm not going anywhere."


	38. What a Difference a day Makes

Written for the _The Air, the Sun_ drabble contest.

* * *

**What a Difference a Day Makes**

5:01

Bella finds herself enveloped in a bear hug as she opens the door to Jacob. She doesn't miss that the embrace last a little longer, that his hands caress her back a little more than usual.

5:03

Jacob scatters his school books over the table in the living room, taking his usual seat on the floor, leaning against the couch.

5:14

With a squeak, Bella spills soda all over her barely existing calculus homework.. The threatening glare on her face interrupts Jacob's amused chuckle.

5:46

"Let's make a deal," Jacob huffs in defeat, dropping his English book, "I'll do your calculus homework for you if you write this essay for me."

Bella feels her heart melt as she sees the innocent expression in Jake's eyes, but she suppresses it like she always does.

"Don't you think your teacher would figure out you didn't write it yourself?"

6:14

They both sigh lifelessly at the same time and break out into hysterical laughter.

"Let's watch a movie," Jacob suggests, taking the book out of Bella's hand. She shivers as his fingers brush her skin, and Jacob pretends he hasn't noticed like he always does.

6:36

Bella faintly hears Jacob mumble about the movie, but she doesn't even know which movie they're watching. All she does is stare at Jacob from her spot on the couch, the way his lips move, his arms in that t-shirt, the shine in his messy hair, his eyes.

6:49

Bella excuses herself to the bathroom, sitting down on the end of the couch closest to Jacob as she returns, her feet dangling by his side.

7:02

"This sucks," Jacob declares so loudly not even Bella can miss it.

"Bells, you okay?" Jacob asks, "You don't like this crap, do you?"

Bella shakes her head, never moving her eyes away from Jacob's face. Something inside of her has snapped and she feels herself moving closer towards Jacob like a magnet, her heart beating excitedly.

7:12

Bella whimpers as her shirtless back comes bumps into the wall, her legs wrapped tightly around Jacob's waist, his fingers digging into her skin, the warmth radiating from him clouding her vision, lips brushing against her throat, teeth nibbling her ear, hips grinding against each other, breathless moans echoing through the empty house as Jacob struggles to get them upstairs.

7:41

Bella shivers as Jacob collapses onto her, his weight pushing her deep into the mattress. Their laboured breathing mixes damply against each other's sweaty skin.

Neither of them knows what to say, so they stay silent.

8:56

"Night, Jake," Charlie calls from the kitchen as Bella follows Jacob outside. After nearly being caught naked in Bella's bed and having to sit through the most awkward dinner in history, they're finally alone.

"So… there's a bonfire tomor-" but Jacob is interrupted by Bella's lips softly pressing against his.

He looks down at her smiling, flushed face.

"So, we'll go there together?" he asks hopefully, his fingers intertwining with hers.

"Together," she whispers.


	39. The Baby Whisperer

I was given this prompt: Jacob changes his first diaper while the pack cheers him on.

* * *

**The Baby Whisperer**

„Forget it, Jake. Not on my table, that's just gross."

"Yeah, we still want to eat there, you know?"

"Where else am I supposed to do it? I can't put her on the floor."

"Why not? Women do that all the time, right?"

"If it were such a catastrophe for her, I suppose your parents did it on the floor too often, Quil."

"You are no help, guys. If you don't come up with anything better I'll do it on the table."

"What about the bed?"

"Are you insane? That's _my_ bed. And I only have those sheets."

"He could just put a towel underneath."

"Not on my bed!"

"Bella is going to freak out if I do it on the floor. She never does that."

"Come on, it'll be our secret."

Jacob sighed, knowing all too well how great his friends were at keeping secrets. He started to question why he had come over to Quil's house in the first place.

"Could you at least get a towel? And a clean one," he said to Quil, who had been pinching his nose closed for over five minutes now. As he left for the bathroom, Jacob knelt down, dropping the big brown bag Bella had given him onto the floor, carefully cradling his crying daughter against his chest.

Bella had been everything but happy when the guys had invited Jake and their newborn daughter over to Quil's house for the afternoon (_that shed Quil calls his house is no place for a baby – there's a reason Claire is never at his place_) but she had given in eventually, demanding that Jacob would call her should anything be wrong.

But he had pride, and he would not let that be destroyed by calling Bella because he had never changed a diaper before.

The guys would _never_ stop.

When Quil returned with an ancient Batman towel (Jacob tried not to roll his eyes and the guys started snickering), Jacob carefully laid his daughter on the floor, nuzzling his nose against hers, something that calmed her down every night.

She still boxed her tiny fists and kicked her short legs, but her crying slowly turned into hiccup-like sobbing, which earned Jacob applause from the guys, all gathered around him in a ceremonious half circle.

"Man, you're like the Baby Whisperer or something," Seth said, his grin the least evil of all.

Jacob felt as if all the bad nightmares about fatherhood had suddenly come true. Diapers, his best friends standing right next to him, watching every single one of his movements.

It took Jacob a while, but he had watched Bella dress their daughter countless times already and technically knew how to open the romper suit (it was more difficult, however, when the baby would just _not_ stop moving around).

As he carefully removed all pieces of clothing, the guys started applauding him, Jared clapping him on the shoulder.

"Good job, Daddy."

A choir of disgusted noises and exaggerated imitations of a gag reflex filled the room as Jacob opened the diaper, unsure what exactly to do about it.

"I swear, if you smear any of that on my floor, I'll never let you in here again," Quil warned him.

Temporarily distracted by his friend's (maybe now enemy's threat), Jacob did not pay attention to the kicking bundle on the floor until Seth suddenly yelled through the barking laughter.

"Watch out, Jake! She's getting it all over her legs."

Yeah, definitely a nightmare.

x

"Jake?" Bella called from the nursery, pulling Jacob out of his exhausted slumber. Yawning, he pushed himself off the couch and slowly trotted over to the small room at the end of the hall.

"Hmm?"

Bella stood by the changing table, her hands holding their daughter securely in place, legs and arms exploring once again.

"Why is she wearing her diaper the wrong way around?"

Told you. Nightmare.


	40. Golden Compassion or Bella on Wheels

**Golden Compassion or Bella on Wheels**

"Please?"

"Honestly, Jake. I'm not in a mood for a party."

"Come on, Bells. It's going to be fun."

"Fun?" Bella repeats in disbelief, her eyes turning into thin slits as she glares at Jacob. Her arms are wrapped securely around his neck as he lifts her into her bed, careful not to bang the two casts around her legs into the bed frame, "Yeah, I'm sure I'm going to have _lots _of fun at a Halloween party when you have to lift me into bed, Emily has to come over every other night to help me take a shower and Charlie has to lift me onto the toilet at night. Yeah, you're right. I'm going to have _so much_ fun."

"Bells, that's exactly _why_ you should be having fun. Promise me to come with me?"

She sighs as she pulls the cover over herself.

"Fine. And what costume should I wear? Limited choice here, Jacob."

"Don't worry about it, I have it covered."

...

Jacob can't believe his luck as he wheels Bella through the front door of Quil's house, cramped with downright hilarious and the usual boring people, but he can only grin, pushing through the crowd.

He doesn't even care that the golden smears ruin his Batman suit. All he wonders about is where his luck has come from. Bella must have been more bored than she admitted, or she would never have agreed to this. But she had been more than willing to comply, had even taken off her shirt for him (at which point he considered just having a party with Bella and skipping Quil's annual feast of awesomeness). She had not even shied away when the brush had edged _so close_ to undiscovered territory.

He would never forget her shiver when he applied the color onto her neck, or the tiny sigh escaping her (damn, was he grateful for his hearing capabilities), when his fingers brushed her thighs as he fastened his homemade construction around her casts.

Quil and Embry burst through the crowd towards them, but stop dead in their tracks when they see Bella.

"I didn't even think you knew what Star Wars was, Bella."

"You are way more educated than I thought."

"Yeah," Bella mumbles, looking around the room uncomfortably before looking up at Jake.

"Told you she's awesome," he says to his friends, resting a hand on Bella's shoulder.

Maybe he just feels guilty that Bella went into his garage one morning and he had to bring her back to Charlie with two casts on her legs, or maybe he just wants his friends to shut up about him not giving her up. Either way, he knows they'll definitely shut up now. Once and for all.

Suddenly, Paul's voice hollers through the busy party chatter.

"C-3PO? Jake, man, now I get why you rather wait for that instead of just getting laid!"


End file.
